


First Taste Is Free

by romanticalgirl



Category: Political Animals
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drug Use, Family Drama, Infidelity, Promiscuity, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 20:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15203288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: TJ Hammond hasn't had it easy - from being forced to come out at fifteen while his dad was in the White House, to losing himself to drugs and alcohol, to sex, to family political drama, to family personal drama, to his life blowing up again and again.All he's ever wanted to do was be good, to be someone his parents and the rest of his family can be proud of. All he ever wanted was to do the right thing. He's never managed it. He never will.He's never going to be the favorite son, but maybe somehow, somewhere along the line, he might end up being happy.





	First Taste Is Free

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a request for Yuletide 2017, but I've lost the link. Hopefully the person that made the request will read this and be happy about it.

“What the goddamned hell is this?” TJ doesn’t have time to react before the door slams open and his father comes charging in like a bull. He’s at the couch in less time than it should take a man of his size, and he’s got Gavin by the shirt collar, holding him off the floor so that he’s on the very tip of his toes. “What the hell are you doing to my boy?”

“Dad.” TJ holds his hands up and gets off the couch slowly. “Dad. _Dad_. It’s fine. It’s okay. We’re doing homework. Put him down. Dad.”

Bud lowers Gavin to the ground, shoving him back. Gavin hits the edge of the coffee table and goes down hard, breath huffing out of him. Leaning in, Bud glares at Gavin. “Get the fuck out of my house, son.”

TJ’s shoulders slump, but he keeps his back straight. He looks his father in the eye, refusing to back down. “You had no right…”

“No _right_? I’m the President of the goddamned United States and I’m your _father_. I have every goddamn right in the world!” Bud slams his hand down on the back of the couch, and TJ manages not to flinch. “You have got to be about the dumbest person on God’s green earth.”

This time TJ does flinch, ducking his head so he can hide the sharp burn of threatening tears from his father. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, TJ You did. You want to know what’s out there right now? Do you?” He roars the last words and TJ steps back from the force of it. His father grabs him by the upper arm and drags him down the hall to where his mom and Doug are staring at the TV.

_”And trouble’s brewing at the White House, but this time it’s not about President Hammond’s newest education overhaul. This time it’s a little more personal. These photos of the President’s oldest son, Thomas, surfaced today, showing Thomas kissing a member of his Secret Service team. No comment from the White House on whether or not this was a consensual event, though given Thomas’s age of fifteen, there would still be legal ramifications for the agent in question, or if it was against Thomas’s will._

_“Is Thomas Hammond, TJ, a victim? A seducer? More importantly for President Bud Hammond’s presidency -- is TJ Hammond gay?”_

The TV sparks as Bud throws a bronze statuette at it. “You didn’t do anything?” He asks as he rounds on TJ “You had _nothing_ to do with that?”

“Bud.”

“Not now, Elaine. I’ve got a whole lot of questions, and right now TJ’s the one with the answers. So start talking, boy.”

TJ takes a shaky breath and swallows hard. “It was… It was...My fault. It was my fault. Don’t… He didn’t do anything.”

“That didn’t look like nothing, TJ”

“He didn’t do anything, Dad. I did it. I… I did it.”

“A fifteen-year-old forced a military-trained secret service agent to do that.”

“To kiss me.” TJ nods. “Yes.”

“ _Forced_ him.”

“Persuaded. Seduced. Okay? I did it, Dad. I’m gay. I’m gay and there you go. You have another thing to add to the list of the ways I disappoint you! Is that what you want to hear? You want a _reason_ why I can’t be who you want me to be? Why I don’t give a shit about politics? Why I’m never going to be the son you want? There you go.” He’s breathing raggedly when he stops. Doug looks like he doesn’t know what to do and Elaine is standing, one hand reaching out for his father. Bud looks like he’s going to explode, his face a heated red. 

“Get the hell out of here. Go to your room. I’ll deal with you later.”

TJ sets his jaw and turns on his heel, heading out of the room at an even pace. When he reaches the stairs he starts running, slamming his bedroom door and sinking down in a corner. He buries his head against his knees and tries, and fails, not to cry.

**

The bedroom door opens and TJ can tell it’s Doug slipping into the room, just from his shadow as he stands in the light from the hallway. “TJ?”

“Yeah.” He sniffs and rubs the back of his hand beneath his nose. 

“Hey.” Doug comes inside and seems to know exactly where TJ is, leaning against the wall next to him before sinking down to the floor. “I brought you a bottle of water.” 

“Thanks.” He breaks the seal and drinks half of it in three long swallows. “How many things got thrown?”

“I don’t know. I left right after you did.” They’re quiet for a long time except for the sound of TJ’s swallows as he finishes off the water. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I kept hoping maybe it wasn’t true. Like maybe it was just a one-time thing. I mean, the girls. They were okay. But the first time with a guy… I don’t know, Dougie. It felt right.”

“This guy in the picture?”

“Yeah. Um.” TJ clears his throat and sniffs again. “He shouldn’t get in trouble for this. It really was all my fault.”

“Dad’s not going to accept that answer, and you know it. Even if he was willing to, the public’s going to want blood. You’re fifteen. They’re not going to be okay with that even if it was what both of you wanted.”

“I know. But I can’t. He doesn’t deserve to have his life ruined just because he was stupid enough to fall into bed with me.”

“Was he your first?”

TJ’s glad it’s dark. It’s easier in the dark. “Yeah. Well, there was a guy before him, but that was just handjobs. This was something more.”

“Listen to you, Mr. Sophisticated. ‘Just handjobs’.”

“Some of us got it, and some of us don’t, Dougie. Sorry to tell you, I got it all.” He laughs a little. It still sounds hoarse from crying, but it’s better than more tears. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to be the thing that fucks up Dad’s presidency. I don’t want to be the thing that ruins it all.”

“You aren’t. You won’t. You’re just who you are. No different than you were before those pictures got taken.”

“I haven’t even officially come out to my parents, and now I have to come out to the whole world. You know that, right? I’m going to be TJ Hammond, gay poster boy. They’ll want me to set an example. I’m not good at examples.”

“You are.”

“Yeah, bad ones.”

“Well… Those technically _are_ examples.” Doug laughs as TJ bumps him with his shoulder. “You’ll have to do a press conference.”

“Dad’ll do a press conference. I’ll sit there like a good boy, look contrite, and sound so earnest when I tell the world that I’m TJ Hammond, and I’m gay. And then I’ll raid the liquor cabinet.”

**

He’s about to go on the stage when Doug grabs his arm and pulls him in. “Just think of the camera as a giant penis staring you in the eye.”

“You don’t want to know what I’d do with a penis that size, Dougie.”

“Oh my god, you’re disgusting. Go away.” He shoves TJ lightly and makes a face as TJ laughs and walks away. His mother grabs him this time, straightening his jacket and his tie. 

“It’s almost over. Your father’ll do most of the talking. Just behave, try not to piss him off, and if you get asked any questions, please be careful how you answer.” She kisses his forehead. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.” He glances at the stage, already lit with too many lights. “When’s Nana going to be back in town?”

“Soon. Hopefully by tonight.” She kisses him again and then hugs him tight. “Be brave.”

“I’m gay, Mom. Not going off to war.”

“You’re going to face the press. That’s scarier.”

He nods and walks out on the stage slowly, sitting down as most of the attention gets swept off of him and onto his father. Bud commands a room, which is nice at times like these where TJ wants to be invisible. Not that that will last long. 

“All right. All right. Settle down now.” Bud holds his hand up toward the gathered press until they all quiet down. “I’m gonna say a few words, TJ’s gonna give you his speech, and then we’re gonna be finished up here.” His sharp glance quiets any rumbling about a Q&A. “Now then. I want y’all to know that we’re looking into this situation. Nobody should take advantage of a teenager, and I’m not going to stand for it in our service, in my security, in my house. Dealing with that is not a question. As for the rest, well, I’m gonna let TJ tell you.”

Bud nods and TJ gets up from his chair, walking over to the microphone. He’s shorter than Bud, so he has to angle it down, but he manages to avoid feedback. He clears his throat and takes a sip of the glass of water on the table next to him. “Okay, well. Um. I’m TJ, and they gave me a nice speech to read, but, well, this isn’t about them, it’s about me.”

The crowd shuffles and TJ can practically hear his dad’s staff freaking out. His dad doesn’t look thrilled by TJ going off script, but TJ’s sure that no one in the audience can tell. Reading beyond Bud Hammond’s public mask is a talent few people have.

“What you all saw pictures of was no one’s business except mine. That was private. I was dumb. I got swept up in the moment and forgot that the press and the American people don’t see me as a person, but as property. But that was my mistake. You were all just doing your jobs. The person in the picture with me doesn’t work at the White House anymore, and that’s all I’ll say about him ever again.

“And yes, it’s a him. And yes, I’m gay. I don’t know what knowing that does for any of you. I’m not sure it’s worthy of a headline or breaking news, but maybe it’ll mean something to kids out there who are figuring themselves out and realizing they don’t fit into the roles they've always been given. It’s hard. Scary. People don’t understand -- friends, parents, relatives. They can’t really understand, because it’s inside. It’s innate. This isn’t how I wanted this to happen, but it did. And I hope it lets all the kids out there who are gay or lesbian or bisexual or whatever else know they’re not alone. And I hope knowing that this is my family here, dealing with this, reminds every parent out there that it just is. And you should accept your kids for who they are.” He shrugs. “That’s all.”

The reporters start shouting out questions and TJ feels hands on his arms. He glances back and sees his mom, pulling him toward her and against her chest. He closes his eyes, letting himself breathe. The reporters and his dad’s responses are white noise as he lets her lead him off the stage. He sits down in one of the chairs and then stands up, bolting to the bathroom. 

Doug’s sitting outside in the hallway when TJ comes out. He offers him a bottle of water and a grin. “I’m beginning to think I’m your waterboy.”

“Little brothers need to be good for something.”

“They’re good for being proud of their older brothers.” Doug kicks TJ’s foot as he sits down on the floor opposite him. “You okay?”

“No.” He drinks some of the water. “Dad still out there?”

“No. They’ve already herded the press out. Dad’s on the phone yelling at someone, Mom’s probably doing all of us one better and having a stiff drink.”

“Soon as Nana gets home I start playing bartender. One for Nana, two for me.” TJ thunks his head against the wall. “Jesus.”

“What now?”

“Well, now I give up all thoughts of dating, kiss my sex life goodbye, and live the life of a monk, because he may accept that I’m gay, but there’s no way Dad’s going to put up with me being gay in public.”

“Aren’t you gay in public just by being in public?”

TJ kicks the bottom of Doug’s tennis shoe. “Yeah, yeah. Actively gay. Acting like a gay person. Kissing guys. Touching guys in inappropriate ways.”

“Like he’s going to let me do that with girls.”

“Dougie, buddy, I love you, but if you think Dad’s going to react the same way to you -- whether you’re into girls or boys -- you’re delusional. Hell, I think you could probably tell Dad you’re into people dressed in furry suits and he’d be fine with it.”

“That’s… unnerving.”

“Don’t knock what gives people pleasure.”

“I’m not. Just that there’s no way Dad would be cool with that.” Doug shakes his head. “He doesn’t like me better.”

“Yeah, he does. And I don’t hold it against you. I know it’s not you. You’re just the good kid.” He points at Doug. “Good kid.” Pointing at himself, he smiles wildly. “Bad seed.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yeah. It is.” TJ sits up straighter and leans forward. “It’s okay. Pretty sure they knew from the start that I wasn’t going to be the kid they wanted, wasn’t going to be the one they groomed to be the next Hammond in the dynasty. It’s good that it’s you. You’re a genuinely good guy.”

“So are you.”

“Eh. I have my moments.”

There’s the sound of a door in the distance and both Doug and TJ smile. Nana’s voice carries through the hallways. “Thomas and Douglas Hammond, where are my grandchildren and why aren’t they here to greet me in the proper manner? And by that I mean with a martini.”

Getting to their feet they look at each other and nod. TJ sticks his tongue out at his brother. “Race ya.”

**

He gets started on pills at boarding school. His roommate is the son of an actor who has connections up and down the eastern seaboard, so he’s always got something to share. TJ does X and likes the high, the floating sensation that he gets, spinning higher and higher when he mixes it with alcohol. He’s on X the next time he has sex, one of the guys on the Lacrosse team balls-deep inside him while he sucks off the captain of the debate team. 

After that it’s a landslide. More pills, different pills. Uppers. Downers. Chasing highs and sucking cock, finding new ways to get fucked, more guys to fuck with. More often than not he ends up in the RA’s room with him and two other boys from their floor, finger fucking the RA while someone sucks his dick and someone else eats out his ass. 

It’s fucking paradise.

Until his parents get his grades and he gets busted to another school. 

It’s the same cycle over and over. He does fine in school until the pills take over, until he needs more and more to get enough. Until all that matters is the euphoric feeling that comes from pills and sex. And then he moves on, waiting for the threat of a military academy to come up.

He’s home for the summer and out at a bar, playing the piano in the corner just for an excuse not to be home. He’s getting decent tips that he’ll leave for the servers, and a few song requests. He refuses to play “Piano Man,” but he does give them some Billy Joel just so he’s not being a dick.

“Hey.”

TJ’s eighteen, way too young to be at the bar, and he looks up, expecting a cop or the owner or, worse still, the press. Instead it’s a black guy dressed in black. He’s got sharp cheekbones and a plush bottom lip that TJ wants to bite and suck. He nods. “Hey, man.”

“You due for a break?”

TJ licks his lips. “Yeah.”

“Come on then.”

TJ follows, blood hot as it runs through his veins. He hasn’t gotten laid in months, and the prospect of it has goosebumps already running across his skin. They slip into the bathroom and the guy turns around, pushing TJ up against the door. TJ takes a shaky breath. “How do you want me?”

“Get to that in a minute.” He pulls back and goes over to the sink, pulling the silver shelf under the mirror off the wall and setting it on the porcelain. He pulls out a small vial and opens it, tapping the end against the shelf, spilling a pile of white powder. TJ’s seen coke, but he’s never done it, and he feels the need now like an itch under his skin. 

The guy divides it up and pulls a tube out of the pack of cigarettes he digs out of his jacket pocket. He puts the tube to his nose and inhales, sucking up the line easily. He pulls back and inhales again before letting out a long sigh. Sniffing, he hands the tube to TJ 

“Step right up. Don’t be shy.”

TJ walks over to the sink and licks his lips again, staring at the white powder. He glances at the guy and then puts the tube to his nose, leaning in and inhaling. His face suddenly goes numb and TJ pulls away the tube, trying to suck in a breath.

“There ya go.” The guy puts his hand on the curve of TJ’s ass. “Next line.”

TJ glances back at him and then leans forward, using the other nostril this time. He pulls back and sniffs and looks at himself in the mirror. There’s a fine dusting of white powder under his nose and he wipes it off with the back of his hand. “Holy shit.”

“Now.” The guy takes the tube and inhales the last line, running his finger across the shelf and rubbing the residue on his gums. “How you feel, baby?”

“Good. Real good.” TJ nods and he can’t stop looking at himself. His blood feels like it’s flying through his body, everything in color, fluctuating between high speed and slow motion. “Real, real good.”

“That’s good. That’s nice.” He turns TJ around and then puts a hand on top of his head. “Now you say thank you.”

He sinks down easily. This TJ knows. This he understands. This is what he has instead of White House-approved boyfriends who want to hold hands and talk about the new bills before the Senate or ask TJ if he wants to go to the movies. 

The guy’s cock is impressive, but TJ’s mouth feels like it’s malleable, made of clay, stretchable. He takes him in and deep, sucking hard and tight. His hands stroke denim-clad thighs, and it’s like he can feel every fiber, can feel every thread. He buries his nose in the guy’s pubic hair, inhaling him. TJ wants another hiit, and he knows he’s got to suck this guy’s orgasm out of him to get it and so he hollows his cheeks and licks and sucks and uses the barest hint of his teeth. The guy is moaning above TJ, hand still on top of his head, but then his fingers tighten and he’s fucking into TJ’s mouth. 

“Yeah. Fuck yeah. You got a cock-suckin’ mouth, don’t you? Fucking made for it on your knees.” TJ sucks harder, moaning around the guy’s shaft. “Fuck.” He groans and then pulls out of TJ’s mouth, coming all over his face. TJ barely gets his eyes closed in time, and he can feel come clinging to his eyelashes. 

The guy does up his pants then squats down, tucking something into the pocket of TJ’s dress shirt. He walks out and the door closes behind him, the sound echoing in the tiled room. TJ gets to his feet slowly, hanging onto the sink as he stands. His face is streaked with white lines of come. He stares at himself for a long time then reaches into his pocket. 

A small baggie of coke and a card with nothing but a phone number on it and a handwritten sentence. 

_The first taste is free._

**

He graduates from college with a degree in musical theory, which he attributes to luck, cocaine binges, some level of talent, and the fact that he blew every single math and science teacher he had. He also had the foresight to be the connection between his dealer and a whole lot of people on campus, so it was pretty easy to get someone to do him a favor. Staff and students alike.

Of course, there’s fuck-all he can actually do with a music theory degree, so he gets a job working at an office, getting fired for cause when he shows up to work high as fuck and starts telling his boss where he can stick his homophobic bullshit. Rather than work for someone else, he gets his parents to help front him the cash to start a bar. 

It does well for the first year, and then the profits go up TJ’s nose, the bills don’t get paid, and it closes down in a mess of unpaid bills and parental disappointment. He cleans up his act -- rehab for two months and then NA meetings. He’s clean for a few months, enough to convince his parents to let him try again. Another bar that goes down in flames, and then TJ’s a twenty-six-year-old has-been with no prospects in sight.

Nepotism saves his ass and he starts working for his mom’s campaign. State after state, different faces all saying the same thing. On planes and on buses, short stays in DC costing him more and more because he has to buy larger amounts to have enough to make it last. He starts using more pills because they’re cheaper and easier. None of it helps make the campaign trail any better. None of it makes having to shake hands with hundreds of people so they can say they’re an LGBT ally less disgusting. But it helps. 

Once the campaign is over he runs through drugs and guys like water, getting put into rehab by his mom when she comes downstairs one morning and finds TJ passed out in a pool of his own vomit in the kitchen.

And then he meets Sean.

TJ’s buying milk, which is the most ridiculous thing to be buying when his entire life is about to change. Because tall and blond is standing there frowning at the yogurt as TJ sidles up to him. “Never go with vanilla. You’ll give the cashier the wrong impression.”

“How do you know it’d be wrong?” He looks TJ over from head to toe then settles on looking him in the eye.

“I can sense these things. Strawberry for sure. Cherry maybe. Yeah. You’re definitely a cherry.”

“You’re sure about that?” He smiles and bites his lower lip. 

“I’m never wrong.” TJ grins at him. “Though I’d be more than willing to be this time.”

“You would be.”

“Good.” He steps closer and reaches around him, grabbing a key lime off the shelf and putting it in the guy’s basket. “My favorite. Tart. Sweet.”

His eyes drop to TJ’s mouth. “I can imagine.”

“You don’t have to.” TJ looks him over, cataloguing everything including the slight bulge in his pants. “Sean Reeves, right? Republican. You’re the enemy.”

“I am. I’m a very bad man.” Sean smiles. “What about you, TJ? Are you bad?”

“Depends on who you ask. Actually, it doesn’t. Everyone would say yes.”

“Excellent. You want a coffee?”

“Are we in a Julia Roberts movie?”

Sean leans in, gesturing for TJ to move in as well. He does and Sean’s voice whispers between them. “Do I get to go back to your place and fuck you if we are?”

TJ’s chest constricts and he exhales shakily, surprised by how much he wants this. Him. “Is that… That something you think you might do?”

“Only one way to find out.”

TJ’s mouth trembles and he swallows hard. “I don’t remember the question.”

“How far away do you live, TJ?”

“Twenty minutes if the Metro’s running on time.”

“Or we could take my car.”

“We should definitely take your car.”

They make it as far as the parking garage, but as soon as they get to Sean’s car, TJ shoves him into the driver’s seat and reclines it, sliding in between his legs, unfastening his slacks and taking him in his mouth. Sean moans softly and TJ sucks him desperately. He has Sean writhing and gasping, begging, and TJ can’t get enough. He can’t get Sean deep enough, can’t suck him hard enough. He needs more.

“Fuck. Fuck, TJ G-god. I’m gonna…” 

TJ tightens around him and Sean lets out a choked moan and comes. TJ sucks and swallows him down until Sean is twitching with reaction, begging TJ again, this time to stop. TJ pulls back and looks up at Sean through his lashes, damp with tears. 

“C’mere.” Sean pulls TJ up and onto his lap and TJ wraps his arms around Sean’s neck to kiss him, as hungry for his mouth as he’d been for his cock. Sean reaches between them and rubs TJ through his jeans. Sean’s tongue fucks into TJ’s mouth and TJ can’t help but roll his hips, desperate for the pressure of Sean’s palm. 

“Please.” TJ whimpers. “Sean. Please.”

Sean bites TJ’s lower lip then pulls back. “Let’s get you home.”

TJ whines and kisses Sean hard, thrusting against his hand. “Please.”

“Home, TJ” Sean gives him a light push and TJ pulls away, easing off Sean’s lap and falling into the passenger seat. Sean does up his slacks, leaving his belt undone, and pulls up his chair back. “You’re a menace.”

TJ laughs. “You knew that before you walked into the grocery store.”

Sean smiles at him and TJ shivers from the heat in Sean’s eyes. He leans in, his breath fanning over TJ’s lips. “Why do you think I walked into that grocery store?”

**

It’s the best summer of TJ’s life. They don’t go out in public, but occasionally TJ will see Sean at events and they’ll manage to find an empty room for hand jobs and blow jobs, and one time Sean fucks him in the East Wing. Living in the White House means TJ knows all the best hiding spots, all the secret places where Sean can make TJ beg. 

Summer session ends, and Sean begs off going home saying he’s swamped with work. He spends weeks with TJ, never leaving the apartment. They fuck and they watch TV and TJ plays for him. They act like a couple, making each other breakfast and laughing, and TJ’s never felt this way before. 

He doesn’t think about pills or coke or getting high. The only taste he needs is Sean. The weekend Sean flies home, TJ spends with his family, ignoring their worried looks at how good he feels, how happy he is. Sean’s his secret for now, but eventually… Eventually.

Sean comes back and it’s like it’s been years; they fall on each other, both starving. Sean barely gets in the door before he’s kissing TJ, stripping off his shirt. He grabs TJ by the Saint Jude pendant he wears and pulls him in, kissing TJ like his life depends on it. 

“Need to be inside you.”

TJ stutters a rough laugh. “I’m good with this plan.”

“Get your fucking pants off.” TJ does, scrambling to get undressed, jeans and socks and underwear dropped on the floor. Sean stands there and looks at him, his hands frozen on his belt. “Jesus, TJ How are you so fucking perfect?”

“Not even close.” He grabs Sean by the belt and tugs him in for another kiss. Sean’s tongue fucks into his mouth as TJ strips him, hand wrapping around Sean’s cock. TJ sinks down and kisses the head. “Hey, buddy. Missed you.”

“Don’t do th- That. Yeah. Do that.”

TJ sucks at the head, lips caught under the ridge as he tongues the slit. He holds the base tight, hand pressed against the reddish-blond pubic hair. He pulls off slowly, tongue dragging a fine thread of pre-come between them as he leans back. “Thought you were going to fuck me.”

“Got distracted for a minute.” 

TJ gets easily to his feet and walks over to the end table, digging a bottle of lube out of the drawer. He tosses it to Sean and grabs the back of the couch, arching his back so his ass is in the air. “This less distracting?”

“Fuck no.” Sean comes over, squeezing lube onto his fingers as he walks. He rubs two slick fingers over TJ’s hole. TJ turns his head, looking over his shoulder, though his eyes drift close as Sean works a finger inside him. “Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.”

TJ bites his lower lip and shudders. Sean fucks him slowly, making TJ beg for each finger until he has three inside him, spreading him open. He’s still shuddering, whimpering when Sean pulls them out. He reaches in the drawer and pulls out a condom, ripping it open and working it on his cock. “C’mon. C’mon.” TJ knows he sounds desperate. He _is_ desperate. “Sean, please. Missed you. Need you. God, please.”

He pushes in slow and steady and TJ moans, his body clenching around Sean’s cock. Sean bends forward, back against TJ’s, pressing kisses to TJ’s sweat-damp skin. TJ needs him to move, to fuck him, but he doesn’t want to lose the feel of him everywhere. Sean holds TJ’s hips tightly as he straightens, then begins to move.

TJ is shaking with need, with want. Sean fucks him slow, like he isn’t burning up from the inside out like TJ. He speeds up in increments and tears sting TJ’s eyes, get caught in his lashes. He’s breathing in shuddering gasps through his open mouth, the slap of flesh and Sean’s rough sounds as he thrusts filling TJ’s ears until nothing in the world exists but them.

“TJ. TJ. Fuck.” Sean’s hands tighten, and TJ knows there’ll be bruises. He releases his death grip on the couch, reaching down to grasp his cock. He strokes it, trying to go slow, but he can feel his orgasm building like a wave. “So tight. F-fuck.”

TJ’s back arches and he comes, his muscles constricting around Sean’s cock. Sean groans and comes, thrusting and pulsing deep in TJ before he comes to a stuttering stop, leaning on TJ’s back again. 

“Fuck.”

TJ nods and forces his body to relax so Sean can pull out even though he doesn’t want to let him go. TJ grabs the throw blanket off the couch and makes a face at the mess on it, then uses it to clean off his hand. Sean disposes of the condom, collapsing on the couch. TJ tosses the throw aside and lets Sean pull him down, settling on his lap.

“Welcome home.” Sean hums and TJ blushes. “You know what I mean.”

Pulling him in, Sean rests his head against TJ’s chest. “I do.”

**

TJ’s heart stops when he opens the folder. Him and Sean through the window of TJ’s living room, a series of them half-dressed and kissing, touching. Something private taken from him again, another paparazzi camera taking something precious to him and turning it into something tawdry, something ugly.

Even with his mother’s assurances that TJ’s wrong about Sean, he knows he’s not. He knows this is the opportunity they’ve been looking for. This is the thing they’re going to use to try to destroy Sean, but it’s only going to make him stronger. Them stronger. 

Sean loves him.

He knows he does.

“Did you have anything to do with this?” The door swings open and Sean’s standing there, straight from the Hill. He tosses his briefcase and coat on the couch and glares at TJ “Did you?”

“With what?”

“Those _pictures_. The goddamned pictures the _White House_ is threatening me with.”

“No.” TJ swallows hard. “No. I didn’t. I just found out.”

“How could they do this?” Sean walks away from him, his body coiled tight with emotion. He scoffs as he looks back at TJ again. “Your mother’s cronies. This is my life. My career. Anything I’ve ever cared anything about. “ He turns away and shakes his head. “And god, they’re destroying everything.”

“I know this sucks.” TJ walks closer to him. “But this is an opportunity for you. For you to finally be free.” Sean’s got his head bent, elbow on the piano and arms hiding his face. “There’s no more sneaking around. No more being hidden.” He faces Sean and leans in, looking at him, feeling like everything’s in his eyes. “I know this is scary.”

Sean looks up, eyes wide. TJ shakes his head. 

“I went through the same thing.”

“Oh, come on. You came out as a kid.” He walks away from TJ, but he turns to look at him. “You weren’t blackmailed into it. You had your mother, your father, the whole country rallying around your courage.” TJ follows him, needing to be closer, to fix this. “You think the country’s going to applaud me for breaking my wife’s heart? Flor lying to everyone?”

“You can do this, Sean. I promise. We can do this. Together.”

He reaches out to frame Sean’s face with his hands, but Sean shoves him back. “Don’t touch me.” He steps back, away from TJ and grabs his coat. “We had sex, TJ. Big deal. I was lonely. And, yeah, it felt good, especially if I kept my eyes closed.”

TJ’s stomach bottoms out and he starts to shake his head. His chest is tight, his throat feels thick. His eyes burn.

“And it was fine while it was happening, but I always left here feeling disgusted with myself.”

“W- N-no. Y-you don’t mean that.” TJ’s frozen in place, everything solid inside him crumbling, because he thought, for once, that he mattered. Thought, for once, that he was important. That he was loved. 

“I'm not like you, all right?” Sean grabs his briefcase and heads for the door. “I’ve got a life. A career. I’m not a pathetic American punchline. This life of yours, or whatever you want to call it?” Sean opens the door, and the look he gives TJ is disgust, black and hard and heavy. “It may be okay for you, but I want more.”

The door slams behind him and TJ stands there staring at it, willing it to open. Willing Sean to come back and tell TJ it was all a lie, that he didn’t mean a word of it. Instead hours pass and he doesn’t move. Can’t move. Finally he reaches out and grabs the top of the piano, his hand closing on the wrapped package there.

It’s a gift for Sean. It was. TJ doesn’t know what it is anymore. Isn’t sure he knows anything at all. He grabs it and hurls it against the wall, sinking down to his knees and putting his head in his hands. The sobs shake him to the core, and he’s fairly certain the sounds rattling in his chest are the pieces of his heart.

**

He wakes up in the hospital.

Panic sets in and he tries to sit up, unable to move. The light is distorted around him and he whips his head to the side. 

“TJ?” His mother is standing there, and she moves up next to him quickly. Her hand settles above TJ’s body. “It’s okay, honey. You’re in the hospital. It’s a hyperbaric chamber to help you breathe, to flush it all out of your system. Do you remember what happened?”

He stares at her. His voice is raspy and broken.. “Why’d you stop me?”

“TJ!”

“Why, Mom?” He closes his eyes and rolls his head away, not willing to look at her anymore. “Why didn’t you just let me die?”

She chokes and TJ can hear her start to cry. He wishes he could, but the oxygen they’re pumping in has dried up all his tears, not that he’s sure he has any left to shed. She tries to talk to him, her voice thick and milky with tears. He ignores her, replaying it all over and over in his head. 

He was in love. He knows Sean was too. He had to be. He didn’t mean those things he said. He couldn’t have. He was just upset. Angry. But then he did what they wanted. He looked directly into the camera like he was looking directly at TJ and talked about his kids. Being a dad. Just like TJ didn’t matter.

Like he really had been lying the whole time. 

They eventually pull him out of the chamber. His lungs feel raw like the rest of him, insides scraped out with a spoon. He’s hollow. 

“Hey.” 

He doesn’t turn his head toward the door, but he can sense Doug coming closer. He scrapes a chair over and takes TJ’s hand. They’re quiet like they used to be, sitting beside each other in the dark and pretending the world outside didn’t exist, like they weren’t trapped in a fishbowl they never asked for.

“I’d ask if you’re okay, but I think we know the answer to that.”

“I haven’t been okay since I was fifteen. Except for the last six months. And that was apparently a lie. Another delusion that I could be someone. Be a person someone could love.”

“People love you, TJ”

“Yeah, the people who don’t have a choice. He chose it. He chose me. He said he was just lonely, Dougie.” He feels the tears gather and he tries to blink them away, but they slip out. “That I was something to pass the time. That I didn’t mean anything.” He laughs roughly. The sound rasps at his throat. “He was right. I’m a joke.”

“Hey. Hey. Look at me. You’re not a joke.”

“Bullshit. What did Dad call me? A scandal waiting to happen. Wanting to happen. And here I am.”

“It’s not going to be a scandal. Mom and Dad are taking care of it. No one’s going to know.”

TJ squeezes his eyes shut tight, refusing to let another tear fall. “I wanted to die. I _want_ to die. I want to do all the coke I missed in that six months of sobriety in the shortest time possible and OD to the point there’s no saving me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Right. Politics. You’re not allowed to tell the truth.” He shakes his head, hair loud against the pillow. “Go away, Doug.”

“No.”

“Go away, Doug.”

“No. You’re my brother, TJ We shared a goddamn womb. I’m not leaving you.” He’s quiet for a long time and TJ keeps his eyes closed, his head turned away. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

“And say what? Hey, Doug. I’m sure Mom’s told you about the Republican, married, closeted Congressman I’ve been with for six months and I’m in love with. You know the one that Mom and her party are blackmailing into signing a bill he doesn’t believe in at all. So, hey, he broke the heart no one in this fucking family thinks I have. Maybe, when you’re not being Mom’s lackey, you could spout the same bullshit you do every time I fuck up. I haven’t heard it in ages.”

“I would have been there for you.”

“You’re planning a wedding and working for Mom and traveling all over the world. When was the last time you had time for me?”

“That’s not fair. You haven’t needed me for…”

“The past six months. I know. Because I was clean. Because I had something worthwhile. A lie, but I didn’t know that at the time.” Tears collect in his eyes again and he scrubs them away. “I should have. That’s the kicker, right? But I wanted it so badly, I let myself believe.”

“You deserve someone who loves you, TJ”

“No. I don’t. I get it now.” Doug’s phone chimes and TJ laughs. “Go on. There’s probably some international crisis that needs your attention. The rest of the world needs Doug Hammond. I don’t need anything.”

Doug’s silent for another ring then he’s on his phone, footsteps heading out of the room. TJ elevates his bed and looks out the window. Christmas lights decorate the world outside and snow is falling. He closes his eyes and sighs. 

He feels like he’s in a badly produced version of _A Christmas Carol_ and he’s expecting two more ghosts. He knows one won’t be Sean. Sean’s at home in Iowa with his wife and kids. Sean doesn’t give a shit about what happens to TJ. About TJ

“TJ?” He laughs, and the sound is more of a wheeze. His grandmother walks into the room and looks at him, shaking her head. “You stupid little shit.”

“Hey, Nana.” She’s the first person he’s actually looked at. She looks older for a moment, maybe even old. It’s unnerving. That's not who or what she is. She’s on stage, lit up with lights that glint off her martini glass.

She smacks him upside the head. “Don’t you take that tone with me.” 

“Ow!”

“Yeah, well, you deserve worse.” She glares at him, her eyes wet. “You scared me.”

“Didn’t mean to scare anyone.” It’s true. Or, more accurately, he didn’t intend to be around to see how anyone reacted. 

“Your mother told me. Oh, honey.”

“Don’t. It’s kind of funny, don’t you think? Me in a steady relationship. Six months has to be a record. I should have known better. The end was nigh.” His laugh sounds strained. “Haven’t done a damned thing to deserve anything nice, good.”

“That’s not how it works, and you know that.” She sits next to the bed and sighs. “What on earth were you thinking?”

He knows she’s not talking about trying to kill himself. She probably understands that part. TJ’s always been about big gestures, and he imagines they’ve been expecting it from him for a while. Hoping maybe. He’s sure all of their lives would be a hell of a lot easier without him. It’s part of why he’s surprised his mother actually saved him. Maybe it was maternal instinct. Maybe it was knowing it’d be a scandal. This is something she can cover up.

“I wasn’t.” He rubs his thumb over the thin blanket. “I wasn’t. I didn’t think about it. I didn't plan it. I just did it.” 

“TJ.” She sighs softly and comes over to him, standing beside the bed and pushing his hair back off his forehead. “No one is worth that.”

TJ shakes his head. “He was.”

“No. If he really was, you’d have said he is. But you’re here. And you’re going to be okay now.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Nana, I am _never_ going to be okay. I might be better. I might be stable or sober or clean, but I am not, have never been, and will never be okay.”

She doesn’t say anything else, but she does sit back down, humming softly as she holds his hand and rubs the back of it. TJ’s eyes fall closed, but he can tell when she opens her flask, can smell the booze in the air. He doesn’t bother asking, no matter how much he might want to.

**

TJ doesn’t see his father until he’s back at his mother’s house, living in the bedroom she has set aside for him. He’s lived here before in fits and starts, so he has stashes all through the room. He digs one of the baggies of coke out of the breast pocket of one of the suits hanging in the closet, fingering it. He shoves it in the pocket of his jeans when he hears one of the doors closing downstairs. 

He expects Doug or his mother when he comes down the stairs, but instead it’s his father. He’s at the bar, pouring himself his usual scotch when TJ walks into the room. He wishes he’d had this in the hospital room. At least there he could have feigned sleep. 

“TJ.” His dad turns around and toasts him with the thick-cut glass. “Still in the land of the living.”

“Not for want of trying.” TJ gives his father a tight smile. “What are you doing here, Dad?”

“Coming to check in my son, of course. Mother’s a bit worried about you. Still hasn’t gotten the smell out of the garage.” 

He used to wonder if his father knew how much his jabs hurt, but then he realized that it was Bud Hammond’s job -- his calling in life -- to know exactly how deep every barb went, how much they hurt. 

“Gotta smell better than all the other women she’s smelled on you.”

“You really want to get into a discussion about where you stick your dick right now?“ His dad’s eyebrow lifts and his mouth tilts into a smirk, a dare. 

“Well, Dad, given that I learned from you that it didn’t matter if they were married or not, I don’t think I have much to worry about. I mean, just in sheer numbers, you’ve got pretty much everyone beat.”

Bud takes a drink, setting the glass on the bar after. He doesn’t look away. Bud Hammond doesn’t break eye contact, doesn’t blink first. “You know, I got used to you embarrassing me. You started one day and never stopped, but I won’t have you embarrassing your mother. You need to get it together, TJ. Figure out something to do with your life other than fuck married men and get high. You used to have something that looked like a future, son.”

TJ’s hands are balled into fists at his side, and he can feel the hot sting of tears in his eyes. Anger thrums through him and the desire to destroy something boils in his blood. “Yeah? When was that? When I was fifteen? That’s about the time you stopped thinking that, right?”

“Your mother deserves better than this, and you know it.”

TJ swallows, licking his lips before dragging his teeth over them. “How disappointed were you that the call just said I _tried_ to kill myself? You almost got what you always wished for.” He turns on his heel, knowing that whatever his father might say next is going to be something TJ doesn’t want to hear. Something he doesn’t already know. Something he’ll never forgive him for. 

He slams the door to his bedroom and locks it, sitting on the edge of the bed and trying to regulate his breathing. The ache that’s been there since Sean’s words had hammered him like blows hasn’t loosened. He wonders if it ever will.

Then he gets up, goes to his desk, digs the baggie out of his jeans pocket and pours the pure white contents on the smooth, flat surface. They ache may not go away, but he sure as hell can make himself not feel it.

**

He’s actually sober when he meets the Milton brothers. He sits down at the table outside the cafe and looks them over. They actually look like businessmen, which is strange given the fact that they connected with TJ through Omar. He holds out his hand. “Thomas Hammond.”

“Marcus, and this is my brother, Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you both.” He smiles as the server comes over, and orders a coffee. Both of the Miltons have lowball glasses of alcohol, but TJ needs this, needs something. He needs something to get his life going in a direction that doesn’t involve watching C-SPAN while he does coke and takes pills with alcohol, all the time hoping he’ll spy Sean. “Omar said you had something to discuss with me.”

“We do.” Marcus says, apparently being the spokesman for the two of them. “We have a business proposition.” 

It takes through lunch and almost into dinner to get everything discussed, lined up, and sketched out. TJ takes the business outline home and reads through it four times, his yellow notepad filled with comments and questions and ideas. He feels like he does when he’s composing, like he’s creating something out of nothing.

TJ understands clubs. He knows how they work, how the people that go to them think. He knows what the priorities are. Booze. Sex. Drugs. Music. Anything that makes your blood pound so it drowns out the rest of the world. _That’s_ why people pay cover fees and hope they look good enough to attract the doorman’s attention. The Miltons understand that. That TJ is the one who can make something out of their vision.

Which is why they talk and plan. And ask TJ for money. He knew this was coming. This is a buy-in. This is him taking a piece of something and making it _his_. He’s high on the ideas and the possibilities, and he’s been clean for two months. 

But money is money and, while TJ has enough that he could score when he needed to, he doesn’t have the kind of cash he needs. And no one in any kind of financial institution is going to give TJ that kind of money. 

Doug opens the door to his office and frowns, looking TJ over. “What’s wrong?”

“Nice.” TJ comes in and drops into one of the chairs, leg tossed over the leather arm. “I can’t just want to visit my little brother?”

“No.” Doug raises an eyebrow and sits on the edge of his desk. 

“Well, nothing’s wrong.” He smiles. “In fact, everything is going right. You have a few minutes?”

Doug glances at his calendar, then at his watch. “I can give you a half hour now or we can talk tonight.”

“Aren’t you doing something with Ann tonight?”

“She’s doing something that involves using fabric as wallpaper, and I’m not getting involved in that.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “We could have dinner.”

“Okay. Yeah.” TJ smiles, wide and open. “Come over. I’ll cook.”

“You can’t cook.”

“I can. Just… not very well.”

“I’m not in the mood for Spaghetti-Os. How about I bring takeout?”

“Yeah, okay. If you insist. I’ll get the beer.” TJ stands up, and he can’t stop smiling. He hasn’t felt this good in a long time, since Sean. “And it was totally going to be Beefaroni.”

“Oh, I stand corrected, Chef Boyardee.”

TJ laughs and gets up, giving Doug a tight hug. He stops for beer on the way home, tucking it into the fridge, then pulls the business plan out of its folder. He makes sure it’s arranged properly, That he has everything in order to sell it. Doug’s his test-run. 

When he shows up with three bags of Indian food, TJ lets him in and grabs the bags, taking them into the kitchen. Doug follows him, accepting a beer from TJ before they both start digging the food out. “So.” Doug takes a drink and points his finger at TJ “What’s up?”

“Not yet. Food first.”

They sit at TJ’s small table and eat, talking about Doug’s life leading up to the engagement parties and running the world and diplomacy. TJ’s never been very good at any of those. But he listens to Doug, and just because he isn’t interested in politics doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand it, can’t converse about it just as well as a lot of people in government, and better than some. 

When they finally finish, TJ grabs them both fresh beers and then leads the way into the living room. “Okay. So, I just want you to listen, okay? I need you to be my guinea pig.”

“That’s never worrisome.”

TJ sighs and purses his lips. “Can you pretend for a minute? That you believe in me?”

“Hey. TJ You know I do.”

“You believe in me more than Mom and Dad. That's not hard. But this… This is important to me, okay? It matters.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Doug takes a drink of beer and sits back. “Go ahead.”

TJ outlines all of it, showing Doug the pictures and plans, the specs and the projected costs versus income. There are graphs, and TJ knows the information inside and out. He gives Doug the entire spiel and waits. “Well?”

“It’s good.”

“Good.” Something in him deflates. “Good as in ‘nice pipedream, TJ, but we all know that you’re never going to achieve that’? Or good as in ‘that’s a sound business plan and I think this is going to be a huge success for you’?”

“Good as in it sounds like a really viable business venture that doesn’t exactly seem like the best idea for a serious addict.”

“I’m clean. I’ve been clean. Six months with Sean and two months now. I’m _clean_. No drugs. No pills, no weed, no coke. None of it. You need me to piss in a cup?”

“No. I don’t need you to prove it to me. I just think that maybe being somewhere where drugs are likely to be isn’t the safest way for you to try to stay sober.”

“I’m going to meetings. This… This isn’t about being a club. It’s not about drugs. It’s about making something good, something that’s mine. Something that I can be proud of. I don’t have that. You, Mom, Dad. You all have that. You all made something of yourself. What am I? What have I done? Caused a shitload of embarrassment. President Hammond, Secretary of State Elaine Barrish, up-and-coming politician Doug Hammond. Oh, yeah. And the joke of the family. The footnote. The black sheep.”

“That’s not what you are.”

“Bullshit,” TJ snaps. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Doug.” He shakes his head and sets his beer down before he throws it. His hand clenches into a fist and his eyes are burning. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought. Maybe that you’d have some faith in me. That you still saw something in me.”

“I do. You know I do!”

“I just want to make something of myself. Be someone you can be proud of. Someone that Mom and Dad would look at and not be horrified that they have to admit I’m their son.” He grabs the papers and stacks them neatly, putting them back into the folder. “I appreciate you coming over and listening.”

“It’s a good presentation, TJ.”

“Thanks.” Doug opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, but then he stops. TJ shakes his head. “Thanks for dinner.”

He pauses for a long time, then nods. “Yeah. Anytime.”

“You know there’s no point in lying to an accomplished liar. You’ve got important things to do.” He pats Doug on the back. His stomach can’t even churn, the weight of his misplaced hope weighing it down. “I’ll see you later.”

**

He tries to raise the money. He talks to people he went to boarding school with, people he went to college with. He makes offers and shows his plan to at least fifty people. They all agree that it’s a great idea. They also all agree that giving TJ Hammond money is the equivalent of just setting it all on fire. 

He’s sifting through the plan again, staring it at like he’ll suddenly realize what he needs to say and do to make people realize it’s an opportunity, that they’ll make their money back. Instead he looks up and around the coffee shop and sees Sean standing outside. He’s talking to some good-looking guy, laughing about something. TJ stares. He can’t swallow. Can’t breathe. The guy walks away after one of the hand shakes that TJ can read all too well. Hand on one shoulder while he shakes with the other. An embrace to fool prying eyes. 

TJ leaves his coffee on the table and slips out, following about a half block behind Sean. Keeping the pictures of him and TJ the Democrats used against him out of the news is probably worth a hundred thousand. Keeping TJ’s private pictures out of the press _definitely_ is. It would be easy.

Except TJ’s still in love.

He stops walking and stands there, ignoring people pushing past him. Finally he turns on his heel and heads back the way he came. He’s been sober for months now. He’s refined his speech to an art form. And he’s going to do this right. He finds a quiet corner and pulls out his phone, calling his mom’s office. 

Her secretary answers and TJ clears his throat. “I’d like to make an appointment with Secretary Barrish.”

“Can I get your name and the nature of the business?”

“It’s about an investment. And I’m pretty sure she’ll see me. This is Thomas Hammond.”

**

“No.”

“Mom.”

“No, TJ. You and I both know this is a bad idea.”

“No. No, we don’t both know that. _I_ know it’s a good, sound business proposition. Projections show you’d make your money back in two years. Two years, Mom. It’s an amazing location. It’s everything. Look at the plans.”

“No, TJ I’m sorry.”

“You could at least _look_.”

“And give you false hope?”

TJ steps back. His whole face feels tight, brow furrowed and lips pressed together as he struggles to keep his emotions in check. “What isn’t false? Forget it. I should have known. I hoped. I _hoped_ and, fuck, I was so stupid. I’m trying to make something here, Mom. Trying to do something that’s not make you wish you hadn’t found me in time.”

“TJ!”

“We probably all would have been better off.” He leaves, because he can’t stay any longer. The air’s too heavy to breathe and he aches. It would be so easy to call Omar, to get his usual and lose himself. Maybe succeed this time, get it right. But that would just prove them all right, and TJ isn’t going to do that. He isn’t going to let them win. He’s going to _do_ this. 

He goes to a bank. He goes to four banks, and even the Hammond name doesn’t help. They all give reasons that sound real, but the truth of the matter is that he is who he is, and everyone knows who he is, even if they don’t know about December.

The Miltons ask him about the money and it’s getting closer and closer to when he needs to put up the collateral to show he’s a partner, he’s in this. He’s getting more and more desperate, and he’s at the point that he’s willing to call his dad and ask him for the money. Willing to put himself at Bud Hammond’s mercy.

Not that TJ believes he has any.

**

It’s amazing how quickly and easily everything falls apart. How obvious it is that his family’s given up on him. His mom lies or, more truthfully, like every good politician, she picks someone to be the fall guy. And when it comes to what a fuck up he thinks TJ is, Bud Hammond has never lied.

He gets the money from Doug - guilt, no doubt - and the club is ready. And then everything goes from good to bad because he’s a dumb fuck who gets his hopes us, and then bad to worse when he realizes that everyone else is right about him, and has been all along.

After it’s over, after the OD and the ambulance and the stomach pump, he tells his dad he didn’t mean to, but he’s not sure if either of them believe it.

**

TJ’s been sober for eight months. He’d be at a year and a half if he hadn’t had a relapse with Oxycontin after a drunk driver had plowed into his car, missing the driver’s side door by inches. TJ had been slammed against the opposite side of the car and broken his collarbone and the other driver had died when, after sending TJ’s car spinning, he had slammed into a telephone pole head on.

He’d gotten help quickly, his sponsor realizing he was high at one of the twice-weekly NA meetings he goes to. A detox in his mother’s house and he’s been straight ever since. He’s even cut down on his alcohol intake, but tonight he’s definitely indulging. 

After all, Anne can’t drink, so the rest of the family has to make up for it. 

His parents and Nana don’t know, but Doug had called TJ a few days earlier freaking out and mid-panic attack. It’s strange, knowing something that even his mom doesn’t know about Doug, something that isn’t clandestine secrets from before puberty. 

“Do you know what this is all about, TJ?”

He looks up from the piano at his mother and shakes his head. “Not a clue. Just got a text from Doug telling me that I was supposed to be here by six.” He looks back down at his fingers and picks up the song where he left off. It’s an original, a composition he’s actually sold. No one knows that either.

“Get me a drink, Sweetie.” 

“All right, Nana.” TJ gets up, dropping a kiss on the top of her head as he makes his way to the bar. He pours his mom a glass of wine as well and delivers each, sipping his own scotch. He straddles the piano bench, and he’s buzzing under his skin, the effervescent feeling that he’d had before the club opened, the one that’s danced along his nerves for the past several months. It’s better than pills. Better than coke.

“Hey, Mom.” Doug comes in through the front door, Anne in tow. She says her hellos as well, and she looks better than TJ’s seen in a long time. He’s not sure if Doug put his foot down, or if she got help on her own. It’d be nice to think he might have been an inspiration to someone. “Nana. TJ. Dad here yet?”

TJ shakes his head. “Not yet. We could start without him.” Things have been better. They’re still not good. TJ is still who he is, and Bud is still Bud. They give each other a little more leeway, but they’re never going to be friends, TJ’s never going to quite forgive him.

“TJ.”

“KIdding, Mom.” He slides his fingers along the piano keys.

“Are you?”

He grins. “Mostly.”

“All right, all right.” Bud comes in from the entryway, shedding his coat as he does. TJ looks around and smiles at the sight of his family. He hasn’t done that in a long time. He’s smiled at them each individually, but the wedding hasn’t quite taken over the look on their faces, the betrayal TJ had seen and felt the night of the club opening. “I’m here.”

“Nice of you to join us,” Elaine says. “I’ve never known you to be late.”

“Traffic is a bitch. Apparently as _former_ President, I don’t have the right to run lights anymore.” He takes the drink Elaine offers him and swallows with a sigh. “So.” He raises his glass in Doug’s direction. “What’s the occasion?”

Doug smiles at Anne, and TJ can see Nana start to smile. She’s probably figured it out, smarter than all of them. Finally Anne speaks up. “We’re pregnant. I’m pregnant. Doug’s along for the ride.”

“As the party responsible, I think I get a little more credit.”

“It takes two, buddy. You wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for me.”

“Please, I beg of you.” TJ puts both hands together as if in prayer. “Do not go into any further detail. The sheer heterosexuality you’re currently exuding is already too much for my delicate gay sensibilities.”

Doug flips him off and TJ smiles. “So. You’re going to be a grandma, Mom.”

“That might even be better than being President.”

Doug cocks an eyebrow. “ _Might_?”

“Well, I didn’t have to campaign for this one.”

Bud’s quiet, but he’s smiling in a way TJ’s only ever seen directed at his mother. Clearing his throat, TJ stands up and salutes Doug and Anne with his glass. “Congratulations, little brother. And his better half.”

“Why thank you.” Anne grins in his direction. “See, honey? TJ understands me.”

“And,” TJ clears his throat. “I’d like to start the night off right by giving junior there a present.”

They all look at him, obviously puzzled. TJ walks over and takes a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. “For the college fund.”

Doug unfolds it and looks up quickly at TJ “What is this?”

“Return on your investment. The hundred thousand plus twelve thousand for twelve percent interest.”

“TJ.”

“Having the Hammond name helped the club. Being the spot TJ Hammond OD’d apparently is a moneymaker.” He tries for a grin, but it comes out more as a grimace. “Thank you. I know you did it because… I don’t know why you did it. But you did, and it gave me something. Meant maybe I wasn’t useless. Wasn’t a lost cause. Thank you.”

His mom and his dad look at each other. He can see them from the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t look away from Doug. Even Anne and his Nana don’t matter. This does. Doug does. Doug believing in him when no one else would, or at least pretending he did. Putting his money where his mouth was. 

Maybe they’re all regretting choices they’ve made. 

“Now, tell us more about the baby.”

**

“You’re home late.” 

TJ looks up from where he’s locking the door. “You’re up late.”

“Have tomorrow off. C’mere.”

TJ walks over to Ian and settles on his boyfriend’s lap. “Hi.”

“Hi. How was the ER?”

“Horrible. Always is around the holidays. How was the family?” He straightens TJ’s collar and then pulls him closer, mussing it again as they kiss. “Wait. Let me guess. Dramatic and overwrought.” 

“Not too bad. Unadulterated good news usually ends pretty well. On the Hammond scale, at least.” TJ puts his arms over Ian’s shoulders and kisses him again. “You decided what you want to do yet?”

“Have you figured out what they’ll do?”

“I can make an educated guess. Of course, my family usually ends up doing the least expected thing. But if I decide they’ll do the least expected thing, then I’ll be expecting that, and thus…”

“You’re ridiculous.” They share another kiss and TJ pulls back reluctantly, running his finger lightly over Ian’s jaw. “Gorgeous, but ridiculous.”

TJ shrugs. “I want you to meet them. I mean, no matter what, you’re better than the last guy I dated.”

“You mean the married Congressman?”

“Yes, the one with two kids.”

“The one that basically sent you to my hospital the first time.”

“It’s not _your_ hospital. Besides, it was a different hospital each time. Maybe you’re following me. Can’t blame me for that.”

“I can blame you for suicidal tendencies.” He taps TJ on the nose. “But I’m not sure that ‘better than the cheating asshole who broke your heart’ is really what I want to go for in terms of meeting your parents.”

“Better than all of the other guys I’ve been with?”

“I don’t feel like talking about sexual prowess to the U.S. President.”

“And ex-President. Can’t forget that.”

“Oh my god. Why do I put up with you?” Ian kisses TJ soft and slow. 

“The sexual prowess?”

Ian shakes his head and holds TJ’s chin lightly, staring into his eyes. “You could be a eunuch and I’d still be in love with you.”

“No one loves a eunuch.” TJ turns his head enough to kiss Ian’s thumb. “I think they’ll meet you and think you’re the most amazing man in the world. Next to Doug. They both have a real soft spot for Doug.”

“I’m not. You are.” He kisses TJ again, slipping one hand around to the back of his neck as the other keeps holding his chin. “I want them to know that I love you. Warts and all. And I’ve seen the worst of the warts.”

“Please stop talking about sex.” TJ pulls back with a laugh as Ian lets go of his neck and pinches his side. He settles down and looks at Ian seriously. “I don’t know why you like me.”

“For the same reason I love you. You’re smart, funny, talented, gorgeous, sweet, tender, amazing. You’re so fucking broken, but all our pieces seem to fit together. I grew up knowing who you were, but seeing you there on that gurney, seeing how you weren’t larger than life, seeing you be human and horrified and literally falling apart when you realized you were alive… Seeing you, I realized that you were just this dumb kid.”

“Not a kid.”

“I know. But just because you were twenty-nine doesn’t mean you weren’t a kid. You never got to be a kid.”

TJ shakes his head. “How do you know me so well?”

“ _People_ magazine and your medical file.” TJ sticks his tongue out at him and Ian shakes his head. “Because I listen. Because I don’t give a shit about TJ Hammond, First Son for the second time. I give a shit about TJ Hammond, the guy with a crap sense of humor and an addiction he fights every day. The guy that I might have violated HIPAA regulations just to find and meet when he wasn’t on life support.”

“Christmas Eve?”

“Do I have to buy a present for the Presidents of the United States?”

“Scotch for my dad, wine for my mom. Vodka for Nana. Get Anna a gift card to some fancy baby store. Doug has the sheer pleasure of being my twin, so he doesn’t need a gift. Or maybe he needs more booze than the rest of them combined.”

“Your family has a serious problem.”

“We have a lot of them.” He leans in and rests his head on Ian’s shoulder, fingers tracing the collar of his t-shirt. “You sure about this? You don’t have to. I wouldn’t be surprised if I dated inappropriate people just so I wouldn’t have to subject them to my family.”

“I want to be with you. That means meeting your family. I’m fine with being vetted by the secret service --”

“You already were when you saw me in the hospital.”

“I’m fine with being intimidated by your parents while they try to decide if I’m good enough for you, I’m fine with their disappointment when they realize I’m not. I’m fine with anything and everything as long as I go home with you at the end of the night. _But_ , I’m not fine if this is going to be a trigger for you.”

“It won’t. You’re not. I’m not sober because of you, but you make it easy to be that way. I won’t lie. Sometimes all I want is to disappear somewhere and inhale coke like it’s going out of style, but I want other things more. Including you. This. Us.” He presses a light kiss to Ian’s jaw. “And I want that for a long time. And I want my family to know you. Know who you are and how you make me feel.”

“So. Christmas Eve is fine.” He puts his hands on TJ’s hips and tugs him in closer so their chests are flush. “Now. I have seventeen hours before I have to be back at the hospital, and I don’t want to spend a second more talking about your family. Or anything, really. Well, anything that doesn’t involve me telling you exactly what I’m going to do to you, you begging me, and me gasping your name.”

“I can live with those terms.”

“Good.” Ian stands up and carries TJ toward the bedroom. “Because I’ve been waiting four days to get you naked and bury myself inside you, and I’ve behaved since you walked in the room. But I’m pretty much at the end of my rope.”

“I didn’t know we were into bondage yet.”

“Yet?”

TJ laughs and makes sure to pull Ian down on top of him as he gets dropped to the bed. “Yet.”


End file.
